When the subject of “The Lubitsch Touch” is discussed, there are a few elements that immediately spring to mind. Primarily, it is the image of a well-crafted, meaningful film that combines romance and drama, produced during the Golden Age of Hollywood, but feels profoundly modern, perhaps not in its setting, but rather in its refreshing humour and unique approach to storytelling. Choosing the film that best defines the principle is difficult – I’ve expressed my outward admiration for To Be or Not to Be, while others (like Billy Wilder, who will be the first to admit that his entire career is indebted to Lubitsch in some way) will likely refer to films like Trouble in Paradise or Ninotchka, especially since he himself worked on that one. However, regardless of which work best encapsulates his style, we can all uniformly agree that one of his most important films, in terms of both style and substance, is The Shop Around the Corner, which sees the esteemed director essentially pioneering a new era of romantic comedies, moving it from the very charming and still very much active screwball sub-genre, into a place that is slightly more serious in terms of its existential outlook and tone, but still keeping the same very endearing, humourous sensibility to made him arguably the finest director of dialogue-driven comedy, and someone who can stand across from any filmmaker and lay claim to being one of the very best of his (or any) generation. Adapted by Samson Raphaelson and Ben Hecht from the play Parfumeriei or Illatszertár by Miklós László, The Shop Around the Corner has remained a film of historical importance, not only being a brilliant work on its own, but also functions as a film that has influenced an entire genre, which owes a sincere debt to Lubitsch and his very precise and unique method of storytelling, which is central to every element that defines this film and makes it such a curiously compelling piece.

At some point, we have all encountered that cliched adage that claims the opposite of love is not hate, but rather indifference – its something that has fueled many stories about unexpected relationships coming from a place of disdain, where it is revealed that love and hate stem from the same place of extraordinary passion, just with different intentions and often varying outcomes. This is the general principle on which Lubitsch constructs The Shop Around the Corner, which is significant considering this is a film where the hackneyed idea of “love at first sight” is entirely dismissed, with the two main characters having nothing but umbrage for one another, which leads to some hilarious and very sweet scenarios when it is finally revealed that they have secretly and anonymously been corresponding with each other as pen-pals, not realizing that the romantic, charismatic and alluring person with whom they frequently speak is actually the annoying co-worker they can barely even tolerate. It’s a simple premise, but it’s one that explores it extraordinarily well. This is a love story that puts the viewer in a position where we have all the information, while the characters are oblivious to the obvious, which makes for a very funny and extremely entertaining experience, the kind of story that seems easy to construct (as evidenced by the many times future works used this same structure in some way, including in a few remakes over the years, such as You’ve Got Mail), but actually required a lot of intricate, detailed work in order to fully realize some of its smaller and more intimate ideas, which are so perfectly encapsulated in every frame of the film, its difficult to not fall head-over-heels in love with these characters, as well as the setting in which they’re placed, which is often just as important as the story – there is something so alluring about a film set in pre-war Europe, especially when made by someone like Lubitsch, who may have self-identified as an American-based filmmaker after leaving Germany, but who still possessed a deep fondness for his home continent and the people who inhabit it, likely a very important choice in terms of adapting this specific play and bring it to life on screen, one of the many benefits of the director’s unique vision and style.

The Shop Around the Corner is often considered an undeniable landmark for the careers of nearly everyone involved, which extends to the actors. There are few performers of their generation capable of the level of intricately woven, deeply complex humanity as James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. Neither of them were greenhorns, and had already made significant strides in the industry, despite being relatively young. Lubitsch uses their unique combination of youthfulness and seasoned experience to create these characters, who are well within their capabilities, but yet still feel like welcome challenges for the actors. The parts needed performers who could take on both sides of the characters – they needed to be deeply romantic people without feeling delusional, and the scenes between them where they engage in some of the memorable bickerings that make the film so entertaining need to come across as entertaining but never mean-spirited. This is essentially a film where we see two people fall in love without actually going through the traditional motions, and the result is a film that is designed to put the actors in a position of being actively challenged. Stewart in particular has the more difficult role, since he’s the character that makes the realization first, and therefore has to balance both sides of the character, often at the exact same time – and he’s as delightful and warm as ever, being the embodiment of everyman charisma. However, Sullavan is not far behind, and she is a perfect match for his character, playing the part of the delicate but feisty young woman who refuses to be categorized by those in the patriarchal society she has found herself navigating, becoming just as integral to the functioning of the shop (as well as the film by extent) as any of the other characters. The leads have astonishing chemistry, and find nuance in very simple characters, and they both bring such warmth and candour to roles that could have been inconsequential in the hands of any other actors.

There’s an elegance to how Lubitsch constructs his films, with every detail being meticulously placed, in an effort to create something that feels well-constructed and very meaningful, while still being effortlessly funny. He was someone who saw the writing and directing process as being intertwined, rather than separate stages, focusing on blending them together in a way that is meaningful, but not losing the underlying complexity that persists beneath these stories. They’re sophisticated, witty and often push boundaries in unexpected ways. Considering many romantic comedies had been constructed as rapid-fire depictions of characters falling in love and trying to maintain the spark that brought them together in the first place, whereas The Shop Around the Corner is far more concerned with looking at that ambigious space between meeting someone and falling in love with them – and for the main characters in this film, that was a lengthy and difficult process that took far too long and placed them in increasingly hostile combat, which surprisingly managed to make their eventual surrender to their innermost feelings all the more endearing. There’s a very quiet wit that fuels this film, and Lubitsch is employing a more gentle form of humour, one that rarely goes for the broad strokes and instead draws attention to the smaller, more human details, which lends it a lot of gravitas and realism, while never being too stoic, finding the time to insert humour where it matters. The tone is what makes The Shop Around the Corner so captivating – it is a very melancholy film, and it never distracts from the fact that these are two characters who are profoundly lonely, and who find solace in each other, without even knowing how the person on the other side of the envelope is – but the process of uncovering these secrets and finding value in life is beautiful and poetic, and allows for a film that is truly well-constructed and extremely funny, just finding humour in more unexpected places, and telling a story that is both motivating and entertaining, which is perhaps the most succinct way to describe The Lubitsch Touch and the legacy it left behind.

The Shop Around the Corner is a film that holds such significant cultural cache, it would be easy to be extremely critical while watching it, since we often tend to have inflated expectations that are rarely met. However, every word of acclaim that this film has received over the past several decades has been earned – it is such an openly endearing, complex character study that stirs the most sincere and complex emotions and creates scenarios where we become immersed in this world, one that is driven by both outrageous humour and softhearted melancholy, two concepts that are interwoven with sincerity and a naturally strong sense of humour, which amounts to a truly beautiful and exceptionally well-constructed film. Lubitsch was a director whose work doesn’t even need the praise – he’s widely considered one of the very best to ever work in the medium, and it’s difficult to argue with those who perceive him as someone who helped define the current generation of Hollywood, with many filmmakers looking to his work for guidance, especially when it comes to the genres of romance and comedy, which were almost uniformly defined by his films. He may not have pioneered either, but he did take them to shimmering new heights. The result is a career punctuated by several masterpieces, each one groundbreaking in its own way – and at the heart of this career (both in terms of its literal centrality in terms of the work he produced, and how it is appreciated), The Shop Around the Corner remains arguably his most cherished work, a deeply meaningful and very funny film with terrific performances, a strong script and people who are so incredibly endearing, its difficult to not be caught under their spell. In short, its a masterpiece of romantic comedy, and a film that continues to be just as affecting and compelling today as it was at the time of its release, which is not a common achievement for many works, especially not one this simple – but if there was ever going to be a director to achieve this, Lubitsch is certainly the perfect candidate.